


People, and actions, and words

by KnuckleHeadZ



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Communication, Everyone is a little more understanding, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, No beta we abandon them in the middle of the night like Juno, sorta?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 16:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30125262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnuckleHeadZ/pseuds/KnuckleHeadZ
Summary: Reeling from the interrogation and capture, Juno's emotions from the ordeal are discussed.Takes place just after What Lies Beyond Part 2.
Relationships: Jet Sikuliaq & Juno Steel
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	People, and actions, and words

**Author's Note:**

> My only motivator for getting this out of my notes app and finishing it was posting it before the S3 finale came out. Did I accomplish it? No. But the ending is rushed!  
> Enjoy I guess?

“Wire has been successfully tied up in the Carte Blanche’s brig,” Jet announced, entering the room, wiping his hands against his pants, as to clean off the dirt left on his hands simply by handling a Dark Matters Agent.

“Aw, cool, I didn’t know the brig was already done with repairs!” Rita exclaimed. She was sitting at Juno’s head, folding expired coupons into paper rockets.

Vespa trailed besides him, ripping off her rubber gloves with grandiose motion. “Still isn’t. ” she said, tossing them aside. 

“So...Where is she then?” Asked Juno, lifting his nose up from the out of date magazine he was failing to read. He set the thing to his side, and propped himself up on the couch into a sitting position.

“It’s in the broom closet. The one with the window, near your room. Because of its proximity, Vespa insisted we temporarily move most of its supplies into your own.”

“And you just let her?” Juno scowled, trying to make eye contact with Vespa so he could shoot her a very incriminating glance. 

Jet shrugged, coming over to take a seat besides Rita. “It’s only temporary, you needn’t worry. Besides, you must understand that we were only two people at the time.” He sat down, crossing one leg over the other, squinting as he now tried to follow Rita’s fingers as they crafted paper rockets. “And although I have enough strength to easily overtake ten to twelve of her, harming her was not our objective, so we had to act painstakingly, and moving the cleaning supplies to anywhere else would provide a hindrance to our objectives.”

“What he’s trying to say,” Vespa said, at the top of the couch, pressing her elbows into the tattered cushions, “is that she’s still got a pulse and we’re bad at loose knots.”

“Really? I thought knots were something that well…” he faltered, taking an awkward pause to try and find his words, “The two of you, and your shared experiences, well you would-”

“Spit it out, Steel; you can say assassins.”

“Yeah,” sighed Juno, “assassins. Or killers, if the big guy has a preference.”

“I do not.”

“Well, I thought you’d be able to take it on, y’know.” he explained, or tried to, at least, looking down at his hands, not trusting himself to look up at the others. “It’d make sense that you two have good dexterity.” His voice, to his dismay, had gone quieter than he’d liked, and replaced a joking cadence with a defeated one laced with guilt. 

Maybe it was for the better. It was his own body’s signal telling him to shut up before he said the wrong thing. Hell, not even two hours ago he was in the midst of an intense interrogation, with a recorder running and at least fifteen sets of ears listening and at least half of them analyzing every sentence that spilled from his lips.. One misplaced phrase; one futile failure to shut up and his family would be gone.

“We do, in fact, have good dexterity. It’s a skill that everyone should develop at one point in their life, not just assassins and criminals. Besides, Juno, we could have always used an extra pair of hands.”

“Especially when they, y’know, have known the person for most of their life, maybe?” Vespa suggested. “Unless there’s a reason why you wouldn’t want to tie up your old friend, of course,” she teased.

It was a joke. Juno knew it, but he couldn’t help but feel his chest grow heavy and his stomach fill with lead. At this point his head was buried in his hands and he strained to take a laboured breath. He wanted to respond, to quip back, then they’d have a little back and forth, and maybe they’d laugh it off before going to fix themselves a drink, but his head was buzzing and as much as it was, it was all radio static and the whelming thought of ‘don’t say the wrong thing, don’t say the wrong thing, don’t say the wrong thing,”

Which wasn’t all too different now then what it was a few hours ago, the gnawing panic that still lingered in the back of his head, manifesting mostly in the line “don’t say the wrong thing or your family will get hurt.” In his voice, occasionally melting into Sasha’s “Don’t do the wrong thing or you will hurt your family.”

It was dizzying, and soon he found himself reliving the interrogation with Sasha once again. The cold metal table and her cold eyes that Juno couldn’t see behind shaded sunglasses, the same eyes that belonged to the person who decided to put his family in cold metal shackles. His heart was ready to jump out of his chest, and the line “don’t say the wrong thing or you will hurt your family,” swamped any and all potentially strategic thoughts for the first few minutes.

It wasn’t until Rita spoke that he snapped back to the present moment. “Mista Steel, you alright? You look all tense and shaky, and I don’t wanna be mean, but you’re getting a little sweaty.”

“Right,” he said rigidly, snapping back into the present moment. He lifted his hands off of his face, brushed them across his vest, leaning back onto the couch, looking up, up at the ceiling. Where were they? Right. Vespa and Jet. Why he didn’t come and help. 

He cleared his throat before speaking, “I don’t know, I was tired, it’d been four hours, and I thought you could handle it. Only reason.” He paused, trying to catch a glance of their emotions. “No other ones.”

“Sure thing, Steel,” Vespa said with her all-too-common air of skepticism. Juno braced for her following quip, but she instead remained silent.

Jet, unfortunately, decided to speak up. “Are you sure about that, Juno? You seem to have been lost a few moments ago, and I may be able to provide some help. That being said, I would need to know what is troubling you to help you most accurately.”

“No, no,” he refuted, shaking his head quickly, in a futile attempt to get rid of the panic. “Buddy said it yourself; you’re not my therapist.” 

“Juno,” Jet began, voice growing low and softer. He looked Juno in the eyes, in a gaze still felt when turned away, setting his knees elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. A gentle touch brushed against his knee, the touch still lingering once it pulled away. "This is not therapy. It is talking. It is how people - it is how families communicate. Even if we take that out of consideration, Buddy was the one who said she would not be your therapist; not me.”

Correction. He had said nothing that needed correction during Sasha’s interrogation. He didn’t want to dwell on what would happen if he did, but the thoughts follow “I said the wrong thing again,” he mumbled, standing up in a clumsy stupor, nearly tripping over his own feet. “I-I’m sorry, this whole thing is stupid, and I think I should get go, go and move out all the cleaning supplies out of our-my room.” He shuffled awkwardly away from the couch, stepping towards the door before Jet spoke once again. 

“I will not stop you from leaving, Juno, but it will benefit both you and I in having an honest conversation.” Jet was sincere, as usual. Even so, his words couldn’t get Juno anywhere if he continued to trip up like he was now. If he kept saying the wrong thing.

“Oh, what is this, a family meeting? Buddy’s not even here.” He said, back now pressed against the door. “Vespa agrees.”

“Who said I did?” She asked puckishly. Of course. Hurt could sniff out hurt, and right now she wanted him to downright suffer. “Besides,” she tacked on, “if it means you’re going to act like this for the rest of your life, I’d rather you get all sad here than when we’ve got an actual mission going on.”

“Yeah, and if it really is like a family meeting, then it’s going to be so fun! I can make breakfast-”

“-I advise you to not-” Jet cut in.

“-Or lunch, or supper, or ooh! A midnight snack, or whateva time it is! Because every time is a time for snacks! Oh! Then after we’re done talkin’ about your emotions n’stuff, we can watch streams together and eat more snacks! C’mon, Mista Steel, it’ll be fun!”

He couldn’t help but let a half smile crawl onto his face at that, and let out a reluctant smile. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” However, it faded when he made eye contact with Jet.

“I’m glad you chose to, Juno. Now, why don’t you find a comfortable position and we can begin.” He said, motioning to the couch besides him. 

“Nah, I’m actually pretty comfortable here.” He said, leaning further into the door. He was, in fact, not comfortable there, but it provided a quick escape if needed, and right now it didn’t feel right being between the two. 

“If you say so. Now, how about we begin with what happened a few moments ago. You seemed to be unresponsive for a few moments, which is...unusual for you, especially after such a tense situation. What were you thinking at that moment?” 

“God, I don’t know!”

When Jet remained silent, Juno realized he’d actually have to say something at least vaguely believable for this to go anywhere. Besides, the silence that hung in the room made it so tense he wished that he had Rita’s wedding knife. So, he sighed, and with that breath letting out any and all resilience he had before. 

“Everything was all...muzzy for a little while. My head sounded like static. Like, really, really bad radio static.” 

“A headache?” Asked Vespa, “because if that Agent hurt you, heavens forbid got you sick-”

Juno shook his head quickly. Jet was looking at him, and Vespa and Rita were too. So, he looked down at his feet to try and avoid the glares. He couldn’t - he didn’t want to look at them right now. The people he could have betrayed, the people he could have put in so, so much danger. “Not a headache. Nothing was coherent, but it didn’t hurt.”

He could make out Jet nodding sagely. If he had a notebook, he’d probably take a few seconds to scribble something down in it. He didn’t, of course. Anything he could have written on was now folded into paper rockets and he wasn’t the kind of person to take scrap notes, anyways. Without the notes between questions, the next one was a sudden blow. “Could you breathe then, Juno?”

Juno’s turn to nod. “Yeah, I could breathe. It just wasn’t something I considered at the-uh, moment.” He took a breath, then, too, noting how different it felt from earlier. Less tense - he could actually feel the air moving through his lungs.

“Very well then, Juno. Everything you have said so far seems genuine and I commend you for that.”

“That was the plan,” Juno said, tacking on a hopeless chuckle. He moved

“These things - exposing vulnerability, especially after an event such as that one, can be difficult, and I’d like you to know that.” He let himself bask in the warm validation for a moment, thanking Jet in what he hoped wasn’t a sarcastic tone. 

“Does that mean you’re going to come sit on the couch now?” Rita piped up.

“What? No-why would I-” he asked, moving his arm back and hitting the door handle. He made a noise of pain, then defeat, then, “Fine, I’ll come and sit on the couch.”

He took a seat at the very edge, pressed against the armrest.

It wasn’t long until Jet asked the next question.

Juno was in favour, mostly, of doing this. Self improvement, all that. And the catharsis of having someone to talk too mostly outweighed the haunting embarrassment. But Jet’s questions pierced like only things that hurt did.

“Do you think that what just happened could have caused it?”

Juno nodded. “I started thinking of the interrogation. The holding all of you hostage, and her stupid, jaded sunglasses. Then that happened.” The room was silent, except for the faint whir of the Carte Blanche in the background. 

“That sounds pretty scary, Mista Steel.” Rita said.

“It wasn’t, really. I knew I was here, on the ship, and that you were around me, and that you’re all safe. But then there was tunnel vision, and everything felt so goddamn loud and quiet at the same time, and I just couldn’t focus on one thing.”

“Of course, Juno, that’s to be expected. I know you yourself said it, but you do know that we are not in any immediate danger. In fact, we are not in any immediate danger because of your plan and the communication we had behind the family.”

“I could have said the wrong thing.” Juno admitted, and the mere mention of the words brought him back into the interrogation.

Jet had to nudge him with his foot to bring him back. “Juno?”

“Hello, carte blanche to Steel?” Vespa said.

“It happened again.”

“That’s alright,” Jet said, picking up one of the paper rockets that sat on the desk. “If you want to elaborate, first try counting the vertices to the paper rocket.”

Juno wanted to ask why, but he wanted to get his mind together more. So, he held the rocket in his hands, tracing his fingers along the edges and noting every time he felt a point. “Twenty three,” he counted, impressed but not surprised by Rita’s skills. d

Jet looked nor happy nor mad, listening intently as always, as was Vespa, who was constantly moving around the room. Juno knew he should probably explain what exactly he meant by that. Silence racked the room once again, each tick of the clock in the background pricking at the tension in the room.

There was a timer on during the investigation. He couldn’t hear it - it wasn’t tangible, but both Sasha and Juno knew that with each passing moment the time he had to save his family - the time he had for his family to work together - was melting. Any wrong words could have ceased the time completely. So he said what he had to say in the moment. And it worked. They were smart so they understood, and they were safe, and that was what mattered. Still, the sheer knowledge that one wrong sentence could have terminated them sat heavy on his shoulders and in his stomach. 

“I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Provoking you during the interrogation was part of the plan. Always has been and always be, and I was thinking on my feet. I just...I feel like I thought the wrong thing. My head was bussing at the time, that’s what it jumped too. Sure, it was a leer and sure, it did the job, but in that moment I wasn’t even sure it would work, and bluff or not, just saying those words felt so, so wrong. They’re not who you are and they’re not who I see you as and if something did go wrong-”

“Which didn’t happen-” Vespa interrupted.

“-It would have felt like a betrayal. And I’m really, really sorry I even said that.”

“Well, when she captured you, it was already technically a betrayal.” Rita pointed out.

Vespa nodded. “Right. It got the job done, Steel. I’m not going to hold it against you. And, well, it’s not like you were totally wrong.”

“Vespa-” He tried to object.

“I agree with Vespa. You’ve known us for quite some time, and I believe it’s been enough for you to see past what Dark Matters thinks of us. I trust that whatever shame you might feel about playing the part should be discounted to the fact that it was still a plan.”

“T-Thank you; right. It just doesn’t feel like that. Still feels like I’m one word away from getting tortured or short, or thrown out of an airlock. It’s not logical, I know, but that’s what it’s like right now.” He admitted, gently shaking his head.

“I understand how that feels, Juno. I’m sure all of the Carte Blanche does. To be completely honest, you will likely be feeling like this for some time.”

“Great,” Juno said sarcastically, “How the hell do I get rid of it?”

“Talking is a good start. So is realizing when you’re feeling like this so you can stop it before it starts.”

“So, compartmentalization?” Juno asked, half joking.

“No. Just being aware. Make sure you can breathe. If we’re around, you could always tell us. I can only speak for myself, but I’m sure the others wouldn’t hesitate,” he said, looking around at the others.

Rita, who was sitting Next to him, embraced him in a warm hug, but didn’t say anything. No words were needed. Juno reluctantly hugged back, which was kind of awkward since it was a side hug. Vespa half agreed, only citing the possibility of missions to do so. He thanked Jet.

In a perfect world, he’d feel completely fine. But, this wasn’t a perfect world and uncertainties tied onto the Carte Blanche and it’s crew like a string. Destruction was still imminent, and Dark Matters still actively searched out for their class X radical. Nureyev was still gone. No, Nureyev’s locations were still unknown.

Even though he did not feel like the weight of the universe was lifted off his shoulders, there was still a weight gone. And though he could still feel the pummeling anxiety as it brewed in the atmosphere, it was no longer, at least in the moment, attacking just him. Instead, it lingered in the room like an exhausted ghost, haunting but not patronizing. Not right now, at least in this very moment, and he hoped not for much longer.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from 'Vermillion Sands' by Jess Law. Thanks for some discord friends for helping me out with titles :)


End file.
